The Ties that Bind
by Annalynn Roe
Summary: The Flock never endured the hardships of the School, never grew up through the trials and tribulation of being on the run. However, in this world the Flock no longer exists, despite the feathery secret they all hide. Each leads a normal life and has a family all their own; but a family is not a Flock. A.U. Dedicated to FleckedWings90900.
1. Max

**Hey! I'm reposting the story because the reviews are all out of wack due to rewriting the story so drastically and it was bugging me, sorry guys, hope nobody panicked (if it's anything worth panicking over) Enjoy the story!~  
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**Max**

Things were changing; suddenly and impendingly. Something she wasn't entirely sure was for the best, although perhaps it was merely a bird-kid's dislike for change. Regardless, life was renowned for its fast curve-balls, and Max had long since learned sometimes the best you could do was go with the flow. And if there was one thing Maximum Ride – bird-kid extraordinaire – could do, it was flow. At least until the waters got too rough.

Which was how she found herself spending one fine summer day, in only a handful of vacation days left, _packing. _By bird-kids everywhere, she hated packing. Digging through the crowded confines of her once very, _very_ long ago clean closet, she was finding things that had not seen the glorious light of day in years.

"Hey Ella, I found your report for, uh, English. Due about three years ago. Never mind, I'm just going to–" Before the brown eyed girl could finish, her younger half-sister had hauled feathers into her room, snatching the paper from loosely clamped fingers.

"Oh my God, Max!" Her sister, two years younger than Max herself, had something akin to horror and shock scrawled across her face. "It took like, a month to convince rs. Howard I actually turned this thing in! How did it end up in here?!" She demanded, probably thinking of how the paper had nearly lead to a serious confrontation between the elderly witch and their mother, and truthfully, Max didn't want to ponder that too long either. The older of the two gave a what-can-you-do shrug before returning to her pilfering.

Two hours later a tally had been made of the following things that had been found in her multipurpose storage unit; fourteen long-lost homework assignments (_most_ of which were hers), seven empty bags of cookies, two suspicious looking sandwiches (one of which she may or may not remember misplacing a year ago), a broken tennis racket, a dozen socks' missing mates, one or two (maybe seven) empty soda cans, and old Mr. McStuffins.

Yes kids, even Max had a stuffed animal, which even after seventeen years she refused to give away, so what? God knows she _should_ have given it away years ago, but frankly, it reminded her of happier days. Of times before the world of schoolwork and responsibilities had crushed her hopes and aspirations of watching tv everyday and all day.

Not long after everything had been thrown away or packed, loaded, and shipped off to the new town they'd be moving to shortly. Somehow without Ella and her noticing their mom had up and gotten married – of course they were there for the _actual_ marriage, they simply had missed the whole in between – resulting in their moving to a new house, an unbelievable twelve hours away.

Interestingly enough it appeared he also had a daughter, although neither Max, Ella, or their mother knew a thing about her, other than she was still fairly young. Ella didn't mind in the least, in fact she was ecstatic, no doubt hoping for a sister she could be 'girly' with. Something that would never fly with her older sister, no pun intended.

Although, that pun, should you be outside the loop, is pretty darn hilarious. Max was a fairly gifted child, not with smarts or creativity, but, rather, with wings. Yep, like a bird, exactly like a bird, in fact. She could even fly, the whole shebang. Like most mutations, it was something she'd been born with, although she had never quite figured out how, and frankly she didn't care. A gift and a curse, as some brilliant poet or author or inventor had once said, she was cool with it.

The only people who knew of this little fluke were her mother, sister, and herself – along with a few others she'd spilled to before learning the way it worked, having wings. How she had to hide the difference in herself, lest she go scaring the pants off everyone. Life's funny that way.

Another four hours flew by and before she knew it the sun had vanished, and in its place was a full moon, basking the surrounding woodland in its magnificence. Tired from a full day of hard work, Ella and their mom were already asleep, preparing for the actual move tomorrow. However, being the bird-kid that she was, Max could probably pull an all-niter and be no worse for the wear. In fact, she was tense with energy, she wanted to _fly_.

Long ago, when Max had first been learning to fly, her wings had yet to fully develop. Their state pared with her inexperience led to a nasty fall one evening, where she had jumped from her roof, you know how silly those darn seven year olds can be. The sudden updraft had pulled her wing from its socket, resulting in an immediate confrontation with the ground. After that her mother had deemed Max unsuited for flight, assuming her wing structure and body structure weren't running in the same circles, and Max was forbidden from flying.

But who would she be, if not a rule breaker? Max had continued her attempts, carefully and away from the watchful eye of her mother. A couple months of practice had perfected the ability. Still, she had never told anyone, keeping it a secret shared only with her and the night sky.

Quietly unlatching her window, Max slide the glass up, wings quivering with anticipation. Climbing onto the edge, she shifted, giving her wings room to unfurl, arching her back delicately as she did so, before allowing herself to fall. Wind rushed by in a fury, and after a few thrilling seconds, she released her wings to their full length; and soared.

This was freedom; breathing in the untainted night air, sweeping across the night sky, underneath the silver light of the moon, listening to the silence around her. Feeling the wind surge through her wings, and the simple feeling of doing what she had been made to do. Fore a few moments she was free; no more secrets and no more hiding. Accompanied by a gentle breeze and the dazzling, bright starts that littered the heavens she flew.

But, as everyone learns, freedom is fleeting, and it wasn't long before she forced herself to return home. In what felt like the blink of an eye, she had reached her window, dropping through it with ease, and landing silently. Not long after she found herself falling into another night of sleep, and preparing herself for the changes waiting ahead.


	2. Fang

**Fang**

An array of stars stretched magnificently across the sky, illuminating the world for a young man who stood underneath, gazing up. Deep in thought, he watched the stars twinkle, following a star as it shot across the night sky. His name was Fang, not what he had been given at birth, but the name he went by. Minutes passed and he did not move, unnoticed atop the two story building; its gray roof blending in with his dark attire. A twinge of pain radiated from his back, calling for his attention.

Rolling his shoulders, onyx wings unfurled, stretching several feet in either direction. He flexed them slightly, until the tension had been released, before relaxing his shoulders, and yes, his _wings._ Like a bird. An unexplained occurrence he had no desire to question.

Perfectly centered despite the staggering height of the building, which was paired with a decent wind, the raven haired male strode to the edge of the roof. He closed his eyes, reveling in the chilling breeze, before opening his eyes and gazing downward, past the sneakers that hung more than an inch over the last of the gray shingles to the waiting ground below. A smirk stretched across his face, and he flung himself into empty air.

Tonight's flight was an attempt to leave behind the onset of aggravation that would be accompanying him throughout the next week, which very well might last for the next several months. His uncle, whom he lived with, was the most prominent of businessmen. Word of a new cruise line had spread throughout the west coast, lately. Apparently it was a huge deal, and all sorts of big time businessmen and entrepreneurs would be in attendance. Naturally, it went without saying his uncle would be there, as well as his family to represent his family-man image. However, there was one member of the family that would not have the privilege. Him.

Rather, he was being shipped off to Chandler Academy –a snobbish, preppy boarding school if he'd ever heard one – where he would spend the rest of the remainder of the year. He could only hope there would not be too many watchful eyes, or annoying females who thought they would get things just because their father was filthy rich. Somehow, he didn't trust his chances. In all honesty, it couldn't get too much worse than it already was.

He already had a cousin who made up the school's reigning 'clique'. Emily was a grade A queen bee, not to mention a serious pain in his– A jet passed overhead, and Fang angled himself down, lest he be spotted. Glancing skyward he noticed the moon had almost reached its crescendo. Tomorrow would be rough, with all the packing and shipping off to be done.

Wheeling around, Fang made for home, already preparing himself for the next few days to come. Doing his best to look on the bright side, not exactly his forte, the young man reminded himself of the people he would be privileged to forget existed for the next few months. No more of his Uncle, with his condescending stares. Nor anymore of his whining Aunt, constantly demanding to know why he did so little to help around a fully-staffed house. Most excitably, not that he ever got excited, he would see no more of Emily, or her aggravating friends.

With any luck, word of his family's social standing would not have made it to the boarding school. If so, he would be free of troublesome girls, who so often followed him in hopes of attracting his attention. Perhaps in this new town he might find peace from all the madness.


	3. Iggy

**Iggy**

Yawning Iggy rose from his desk, where he'd spent the last hour and a half planning his escape.. Tonight was the night. He was leaving, for good. He had rushed his decision, but he would rather leave unprepared than be subjected to the humiliation of staying.

He was not a tool. A freak, a miracle, a pyro, or an inventor – perhaps, but he was not something to be used for another's personal gain. He might be different, but did that really give others the right to treat him so?

Yet, despite this, his feeling, his so called 'loving parents' had done it again. Behind his back they had gone and booked another interview, another chance to be shown off like some circus sideshow. He had wings, big deal.

By midnight he was ready, carrying a pack with enough to hold him over for the first couple days. It was time to go. At the door he stood a moment, not bothering to turn around and view his home one last time. Not only was it not worth his time, but he had long ago lost the ability to do so.

Stealth was not necessary. Both of Iggy's parents often spent their nights out on the town. Financed by the numerous bookings with reporters and the occasional talk show host. Right now they were likely enjoying an expensive meal at some fancy new restaurant, completely unaware their money maker was giving them the slip. Wouldn't they be disappointed upon returning home?

It was fairly quiet tonight, and a gentle breeze rustled the trees, and caused the metal buildings surrounding him to groan. Perfect flying conditions, he smiled.

Iggy walked the several blocks it took to reach the city park, which, surprisingly enough, was fairly large. At it center was a sizable lake, where he often went when he felt the need to spread his wings.

Although he could not see them as he walked silently down the city street, Iggy felt several eyes follow him. This was nothing unusual. He had been given quite the reputation in this city, and he soon heard the whispers pick up.

"Hey, isn't that the bird kid?"

"Woah! Look over there, it's the bird kid!"  
>"They really allow it out alone, what are they thinking?"<p>

"Mommy, mommy, I wanna go talk to Mr. Bird Man!"

"No, no honey, come on now, keep walking. Let's go, now."

Iggy did his best to ignore the murmurs, but he twitched at that damn nickname, how he hated it! Bird kid this, Bird kid that, did they not know he _had_ a name? Or, at the very least, acknowledge he was a human being, not some thing to be kept on a leash. That he _had_ come from two very human parents, oddities aside. He had thoughts, feelings, and everything else all these other people seemed to think he lacked. That and just a little more. Just a little too much.

Twelve blocks later he finally escaped the watching eyes stepping into what shelter the trees offered. He breathed a sigh of relief. Tomorrow, his parents would quickly hear of his escape, but by then it would be too late. He would be long gone. As Iggy's determination strengthened, so did his stride. This was it, tonighthe was free.

In his next home, although where that would be, he did not know, Iggy would no longer suffer the hateful life he had been forced to endure for so long. Finally, he would have the chance at a normal life, away from the greed of his parents, and the ridicule of those who knew of his wings. Blindness would be his only difference, and it would be a difference others could accept. Because they would have something he did not, rather than the other way around.

Satisfied with thoughts ofthe impending change, Iggy stepped into the moonlit clearing and, with a flourish, outstretched his wings. He did not know it, for he had never seen them, but they were magnificent; a dappled gray with ginger flecks. For years they had been featured in the most interesting news articles and papers, scientists had studied them, prodded them, and cut them. Over time he had grown to hate them. At the same time, he could not help but love them as well.

His wings gave him independence. They gave him an identity, however apart it set him. People feared what was not like them, and he certainly was not like them. Iggy knew the joy of flying through the night, soaring above the pain and anger of people. In the sky they could not touch him. They could not hurt him.

He understood their discontent. Iggy had suffered a similar fate. At a young age his eyesight had abandoned him, and left but the faintest of memories. Colors were the only things he could recall, and even then, the could not name them. At times he loathed those who had what he did not, who could see things he never would. Difference was not always good, it meant having and not having what others did and did not. So he would hide away his difference, and pretend he accepted theirs.

He flexed his wings softly, before pushing down swiftly. A powerful beat of his wings, followed by another, and then another. He rose into the air, and up above the lake, and above the trees. For the last time he passed over the city. People gazed up, and pointed from their place on the street. Watching in awe as a child with wings tore through the night. It would be the last any saw those magnificent dappled gray wings, and their ginger flecks.

On powerful wings, Iggy disappeared into the night.

Leaving behind the atrocities of a previous life, he set his sights on bigger and brighter things. Somewhere was a place none had ever heard his name, and none would recognize his face.

Tomorrow was a new day, and within it held a new life. His life.


	4. Nudge

**Nudge**

As a child, Nudge had been riveted by tales of princesses and princes, off magic and adventures, each with its own happy ending. As she grew, her interest in fairy tales did not wain, rather, it began to focus on one in particular. She began to read it, again and again, taken by the similarities she shared with the princess, and a hope that her life would end with such a happily ever after.

"Monique!" A female howled, as her door slammed open, and demanding. "I'm hungry!"

"Don't call me that." She moaned into her pillow, peeking from the refuge to the pink alarm clock to her right, "It's only 5:50!" Mia was truly one of a kind. Who in their right mind would ever voluntarily wake up so early on a Saturday? During spring break, no less!

"I don't care, go make something already!" Mia insisted, continuing with what should be prepared, how long it should take, and precisely how it should be done. One would think, with as much detailing as she gave, she would see the genius and simply doing it herself. But what else was a step sister good for? When Nudge gave no reply, the raven haired girl huffed, slamming the door, through it shouting, "If you're not down in five minutes I'm calling mom!"

Ah, 'mom'. A Cinderella story wasn't complete without a vindictive step mother to ensure her precious daughters' every need and desire was well catered to. With all the trouble they caused, it was a wonder no one had ever given in to the idea of hiring a maid, or at the very least, a cook. However, Isa – Nudge's evil step mother – believed doing so would only cause a possible leak, and all their secrets would end up plastered across every nation-wide newspaper across the country. Which led Nudge to believe the woman had watched one too many soap operas.

However you looked at the situation, it was she who ended up doing most of the housework within the Taylor mansion. At times Nudge considered whether or not her step mother simply did not want a maid because it would make life easier on her step daughter. The idea certainly seemed plausible.

Moments later Nudge urged herself from the bed, walking toward the door. A muscle near her shoulder blades twitched, and she was reminded she was not entirely like Cinderella. They certainly had some differences. Nudge stepped into the hallway, another difference dashing around her feet, barking. Not only was their dog not a cat, but he was not evil, nor named after the devil. He was just Total. Totally Total.

Also, Nudge had been blessed with only one terrible step sister. She nudged a door, down the hall from her own, open, stepping in and flicking on the lights. Spoiled, most certainly, but too young to be considered anything but adorable. "Sarah, wake up, breakfast will be ready in ten." Nudge announced, before closing the door, allowing the younger girl a while to get up, and heading down the stairs to begin breakfast. At the stairs she took a running start, before jumping and sailing over all twenty steps with ease.

"_Nudge!_"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming, go watch tv or something. I mean, really, do you expect me to cook everything to your prestigious liking with you looking over my shoulder and commenting on _something_ every five seconds. I swear, I–" Nudge continued as she walked into the kitchen, picking out an armload of ingredients, before heading toward the frying pans. "Give me _twelve_ minutes, will you? Everything will be ready, and then–"

"_God_, Monique, will you _shut up_?"

"I told you! My name is Nudge!"

"Humph, just fix me my food, quietly, _Nudge_." After giving a huff of her own, Nudge obliged, albeit mumbling about ungrateful sisters and their giant egos. The rest of breakfast passed by smoothly, everyone enjoyed their meal, although, for the sake of maintaining her usual air Mia still complained.

As Nudge walked around the table, cleaning it off, Mia spoke up once again. "Oh, has mom told you yet?" She began haughtily, continuing before Nudge could give a reply, "We're all going on a vacation to the Bahamas!" Her elder sister gave a coy smile. "Well, _we_ are, anyway. Mom thinks it's been a while since you've gone to visit Aunt Delores, and you _know_ how important family is."

Despite her sister's obvious attempts, Nudge was not bothered. In fact, she had found out about the trip weeks ago. Sarah was not one for keeping secrets, and when Nudge had walked into her room one day, finding her in the midst of piles of clothes and bathing suits, the beans had quickly spilled. Rather than being disappointed by the fact she was not accompanying them, she was entire three months, free of the troublesome duo and her aggravating step mother. What more could she possibly ask for?

Everything was already set, a private jet was landing tomorrow evening to escort the three to their vacation home, and Nudge was leaving tonight. Bag already packed, all that was left was to wait. Humming cheerfully, the mocha-skinned girl washed the last of the dishes before heading upstairs. Yeah, as much as she liked Cinderella, they weren't alike in every aspect. Once she'd reached her room, Nudge maneuvered to her window, pushing it up, before launching herself out.

Cause, poor Cinderella, she didn't have wings.

For a moment Nudge hung suspended in the air, before chocolate wings snapped open, and suddenly she was flying, and so began Nudge's feathery tale.


	5. Gazzy

**Gazzy**

A blonde mop of hair slunk its way down the stairway, headed for the living room. Skipping the last two steps he came to a loud stop at its end. Already knowing where his father would be the young boy took a deep breath.

"Da-a-d! I'm hungry!" He shouted, jumping toward the couch where his father sat with a computer in his lap, a football game muted on the television. Not facing his son, the older man immediately began to pretending he was sleeping. In return Gazzy began poking and pulling at the older man's face. "You're not asleep!"

Shaking his head and laughing with his son the man tossed aside his laptop. "Alright, alright, you got me!" Hopping back Gazzy beamed at his father.

"How does spaghetti and two gourmet," the man winked good naturedly, "omelets?"

"Yeah, yeah!" Gazzy exclaimed, already knowing what was on tonight's menu. It was Saturday after all. A combination of their ultimate favorite foods, as per usual Saturday nights went.

"Okay, Gasman." His dad agreed as he started for the kitchen, his gait casual and unhurried.

Life had been like this since Gazzy's mother's death, three years ago. Everyday the little boy still fervently wished to see his mother's smiling face, but every day proved no different than the last. Her death had left him more docile than he had been in years, the worry and fear it had brought was staggering. Her death had not been something that had come and gone before they could understand what had come to pass. Rather, it had been Leukemia.

It had been horrible watching what it had done to his cheerful mother. The changes brought about by the radiation treatment, and later the sickness itself. Throughout the ordeal he had been lost, and even now he had not entirely found himself. It was impossible to describe, knowing when his mother would die, and counting the days, the weeks, and ultimately that months that passed until his mother finally passed away.

Since then it had just been him and his dad. At first things had been awkward, both unable to ignore the drastic change that had been forced upon both of them. Unable to talk to one another, although both felt the same things. What had truly made the situation so awkward was the fact, his father was actually new to the family. Not really his biological father, but rather his step father. As far as he knew, his real father had left when he was very young, and Gazzy had no memories of the man. Over time things had changed with his step father, and finally the two had found a rhythm that matched them both.

Gazzy took a moment to relish in the fact school was out for another week. Summer break had been wonderful, together he and his father had gone to a water park, and for a few weeks, Disney. It had been awesome, all the roller coasters, food, and shops. Gazzy had even ripped the head off one of the costumed people who walked around as Disney characters. It had been hilarious.

Like most kids, Gazzy held no liking for school, where all you did was sit in a desk and work meticulously on boring things, and listen to boring teachers. Regardless, that didn't mean he wasn't a _good_ students. At least, when he wasn't bugging his teachers with questions of quantum physics.

"Gazzy," His father called for the young boy's attention as he was setting the food onto the table, and Gazzy grabbed at his share, cocking his head to the side, indicating he was listening. "I got a call from school today." The young boy stopped spooning food onto his plate, glancing up with worry. His dad laughed. "Nothing like that, this time."

"Your school is taking part in an exchange program, with a school all the way out in Colorado." The man explained, and Gazzy kept his full attention on what his father said, this was news to him. "It's a boarding school, and you've been nominated as the school's nominee. An all expense-paid trip to attend for the entire school year." His father mused, clearly proud.

"I've decided you'll be going." Gazzy blinked. Going to a school states away? He looked at his father, would he not be able to see him for an entire year? His face was easily read, and his dad shook his head, explaining. "I'll be able to visit, although I'm sure once you get into the swing of things you'll hardly notice I'm gone." The young boy looked unconvinced.

"Hey," His father reassured, "This is the chance of a lifetime. You know I'll just be a call away, and I think you can really benefit from this. I know things have been difficult since Sherry died, and I think this is a step in the right direction."

"I don't want to go." Gazzy replied adamantly, it might make him sound like a child, but the idea of being away from his father for so long, away from everyone and everything he knew...scared him. "I mean, what about my wings?" Even more important, what was he supposed to do with the six foot pair of wings on his back? It wasn't exactly something he went around showing everyone, they'd flip.

"Someone's been informed of everything, and they'll be sure to look after you." At the mention of his wings, the graying man smiled triumphantly.

"What? What is it?" His father grinned, leaning down and whispering, as though someone else might hear.

"It's supposed to be a secret, but, I've heard, there's someone else down there, with wings too."


	6. Angel

**Angel**

Curly blonde hair flowed elegantly behind a young child as, feat of feats, she flew unaided through the sky. A pair of bleach white wings kept her aloft, and she sailed in lazy circles, slowly making her way home. The young girl lived with her dad, her mother long since left. She had been so young when the woman had left, she did not have even the faintest memories of her. She did, however, know what she looked like.

Blonde hair, like herself, and startlingly clear, crystal blue eyes. Angel, named after her dazzling wings, had once been told by her father she looked exactly the same as her mother had as a child. It pleased Angel that, although she knew so little of her mother, she bore such a likeness. So that every time she looked in the mirror, she might catch a glimpse of the lady she never knew.

"Angel, I need to talk to you." Her father called as she landed gracefully onto the back porch, catching her attention. They lived outside the city limits so she could fly peacefully, without being wary of watching eyes, which where often unnerving. Occasionally she would find her father at the back door, watching her as she maneuvered in and around the sky. The young blonde often got the sense her father did not appreciate her unique appearance and abilities. In fact, at times she got a feeling of fear, one she knew did not belong to her.

"Is something wrong, daddy?"

"No...no, nothing like that." He replied hesitantly, seemingly unsure how to broach a particular topic. His hand scratched at his chin, covered in a twelve o'clock shadow, indicating whatever he wished to speak about was especially difficult. Angel waited patiently for him to begin, knowing interrupting, no matter what she might say, would do nothing to help.

"Ah, well, Angel, I've been seeing someone for a while now." His hand reached behind his head to cup his neck, rubbing it awkwardly. "A long while, actually." She did not tell him, but Angel had gotten the idea he was dating someone a long time ago, she simply had never mentioned it. He didn't like when she did that. It had been a skill that had only recently developed, being able to pick up senses and at times thoughts that otherwise went unspoken.

"We've recently gotten married, actually." He glanced to his daughter, ensuring she understood what was being said, and was not too upset at hearing the news. Angel had always been very attached to her mother, even though she'd never met her. "We both know you still love your mother, and it's okay to call someone else that, do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

Angel did not argue, though. She was a child, but not so young as to not understand the situation at hand. She knew her mother and father no longer loved one another, even if she still loved them both. Now her dad loved someone else. Surely they were nice too, right? Even if they weren't her mother, that didn't mean she couldn't at least like them.

"Daddy...?"

"What is it, Angel?"

"Do I...do I have to call her mom?" Her voice stuttered. She could understand her father loving someone else, but she only had one mother. Calling someone else by another's name...did not seem right.

"Sweety, if you don't want to, that's fine. I know you still love your mother, and your mother knows that as well. If it would make you feel better, you can call your step mom Mrs. M, okay? Her name is Valencia Martinez." Slowly Angel nodded.

"Okay then, we'll be leaving tomorrow. Our new house is out in Arizona, it's a nice place, with a lot of rooms, and did I mention Valencia has two daughters?" At this Angel's eyes widened, and flew to her father's.

"You mean–!?"

"Yup, two big sisters. Max and Ella, both of them are really sweet, and the younger one, Ella, I'm sure you'll absolutely love. She's very excited to meet you tomorrow."

"We get to meet everyone tomorrow?"

"Yup, so how about it, kiddo?"

"Okay! I'll go pack my stuff!" With that Angel quickly ran down the hall, taking a left at the first door and dashing into her room. Immediately she pulled out a large suitcase, hurriedly stuffing in clothes, a few stuffed animals – including her favorite, Celeste, which had been a present from her mother, and finally, a picture of her mother. Packing did not take long, her dad had told her she only needed to bring her clothes and a few other things, everything else they would be able to get at their new house.

Once she had finished, she lugged the heavy suitcase into the living room, where her dad relieved her of it, taking it out to the care. By then the sun had already set, and soon Angel was in bed, and soon after, asleep, excited for the coming day.

Tomorrow was bound to be terrific, and she couldn't wait to meet the two who would soon be her sisters. After a moment of thought, Angel drowsily realized her father had mentioned Ella, and how excited she would be, but had said nothing of the older sister, Max. It was an interesting name, Max, not very girly. Angel supposed Max might not be a very girly person in general.

She wondered how they'd react, when they found out her secret.


	7. Moving In

****Max****

A growl resonated in Max's throat, unheard by most. People did, however, notice her tense posture, as her nails dug into the seat's armrest. As well as the occasional biting remark when a flight attendant came up to her, asking she she was 'alright'. Really, did she _look_ alright?

Who in their right mind was okay with riding in a tin can with wings? It wasn't natural! A thirty six ton scrap of metal should not be over a thousand feet in the air! There was a reason penguins and chickens did not fly. There was a reason birds had hollow bones. Planes simply defied logic, and at some point some greater power would realize this, and right the error that had been overlooked. And she did not want to be in said plan when such an occurrence came into play.

"Max," Her mother tried to soothe her nerves, which were at this point royally shot. "Calm down, sweety. Twelve more minutes and we'll be landing." Key word: 'tried'. Twelve minuets or twelve seconds, a second longer was too much, she wanted off immediately. The winged girl bit back a nasty retort, knowing her mother was sincerely trying to help. But next time, she grumbled to herself, try letting her fly herself to some distant home. Max swore, no one would ever trick her onto one of these metal death traps again. Ever.

The brown eyed girl glanced to her right, where Ella lay in her chair. Sleeping, of all things. She could not even begin to comprehend how the girl managed it. Max knew better than to even try. The moment she shut her eyes, her treacherous mind would conjure every possible malfunction or error, and a scene would play out, one after another. She had no desire to watch herself die a dozen times over. So instead she sat tensely in her seat, waiting and praying for the two hour fight to end quickly. Or at least for the blasted flight attendants to _leave her alone._

Nine grueling minutes passed before a voice came overhead, the pilot, announcing they would be landing shortly. Three minutes later Max was shoving and elbowing her way through those dumb enough to try standing up before she'd cleared the aisle. Throwing open the door, she hardly waited for the exit ramp to completely connect with the plane, jumping the small distance and sighing with relief. Finally on solid ground, the madness was over.

A few minutes passed before her mother and sister, each wearing their own look of disapproval or amusement, stepped off the plane. Her mother handed Max her duffel bag, which in her haste had been left abandoned in the compartment above her seat. She gave a sheepish grin, thanking the woman before the three made their way toward the baggage claim, her mother speaking as they went.

"Really Max, I know how much you dislike planes. But would it really hurt to at least wait on the other people, do you have any idea how many people I apologized to on the way out?" The girl in question scratched the back of her head, not allowing her mother to send her into a guilt trip. Not this time.

"I told you flying was a bad idea, mom." The larger woman sighed, shaking her head.

"I suppose you did. I'll never understand you, though."

"No kidding," Ella giggled, looking at her sister, entertained by her latest stunt. "You'd think someone with wings would be totally fine on a plane. But you just spazz out."

"Ella!" Max whisper-shouted. "Ix-nay with the wing-ay." What was she thinking? Talking about her wings in an overcrowded airport terminal? She glared at the passerbys who had turned in their direction, curiosity piqued. No way she was ending up locked away in some freaky science lab all the way out in Death Valley, being poked and prodded by a bunch of whitecoats. Where had that come from? She glared now at her sister, who grinned sheepishly, apologizing in response.

By the time they'd reach their car – a rental that had been dropped off at the airport apparently – Max was so worn out the short car ride home was enough to lull her to sleep. Impressive, considering even on a good day she hated cars as well. She could stand it much better than a plane, though, at least cars had four wheels and were firmly planted on the ground. Unless she was driving of course.

The town they were moving to was not all that big; it was an hour and a half drive from the nearest airport. So by the time they'd reached the new house, Max was well rested and prepared for the oncoming hours of unpacking. Grabbing two boxes from the trunk while her mother and sister started with the lighter things, Max totted the stuff through the door, setting them in the kitchen before deciding to take a quick tour of the house.

It was nice. A lot bigger than her previous house, with a master bedroom and bath on the first floor (yes, there was a second floor) along with the living room, kitchen, pantry, laundry room, and a second bathroom. On the second floor, she quickly realized, there were a whooping five bedrooms. Obviously the room on the first floor would belong to her mom and her new husband, and Max wasted no time claiming her room, a sizable one overlooking the forest at the back end of the house. Noticeably having its own bathroom, although the bathroom connected her room to another, but more than likely it would simply be used for storage, considering its fairly small size.

All was well, and three hours later the Martinez had successfully moved into their new home.


	8. New Arrivals

****Max****

The first day passed uneventfully into the second. Ella and their mother were both strung tight with anticipation as the time for their new family members' arrive drew nearer.

"Oh dear," The oldest of the three exclaimed, "It's about time they should be here. Why don't we step outside, shall we?" Ella giddily agreed, quickly falling into step behind her mother as she made her way toward the door. Max stretched on her lounging spot before begrudgingly removing herself from the cushion. Meeting the new guys was cool and all, but she had been just about to fall asleep.

Sleep was something the dirty blonde never passed up willingly. Those two had better appreciate the fact they had taken precedence over sleep tonight. It would not likely happen again. With only the slightest bit of grumbling Max stepped out onto the porch just as a silver Sedan pulled into the yard.

A short while later a man had exited the car, before opening the door for a young girl with bouncing blonde curls. Who was asleep. Max stared.

"Smart kid." She finally mumbled, conceding to the knowledge they had likely made just as long a trip today as her mom, Ella, and she had yesterday. The girl was probably worn out. Max stood, idly pondering the likelihood that the little gremlin had already overridden Max with her undeniable adorableness. She'd have to keep her eyes on this one. The doll-like child slowly opened her eyes, blinking, before becoming alert.

"Are we here?" She mumbled lethargically, her father confirmed the fact, rushing to set the girl down. He wasted no time turning to Valencia, swiftly leaning in for a brief kiss, hugging her slightly, and then turning to Max and Ella.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" He commented lightheartedly, and Ella replied eagerly, welcoming the man from his trip, and asking this and that. Attention soon turned to the young angel standing a ways behind her father. Although her mother nor sister appeared to notice, Max took note of the relation between father and daughter. How he had set her down as soon as she had woken up, and the unusual distance between the two now. There was something off about it.

They did not appear particularly snobbish individually, so Max could not see personality causing the strangeness about their relationship. As she watched the young girl silently, how she was placed strategically behind her father, hiding. The problem was definitely with the father, the brown eyed girl decided, and a moment later, she puzzled it out. It was fear.

What's-his-name, David, wasn't it? He was actually afraid of his daughter, Max realized. It was barely there, but unquestionable nonetheless. Although, she reconsidered, afraid might not be the best word choice, it was more...uneasiness that radiated from the guy. How lame, she decided. Clearly there was something wrong with this guy, to have such feelings toward their own child, who was hardly old enough to do much more than throw a tantrum.

Somehow Max had managed to catch the little girl's attention, she realized. The little girl, Angel, looked at her with curiosity, as though she were trying to puzzle out something she could not understand either. Oh, Max thought. Angel was probably wondering why she had yet to introduce herself, or at the least come forward to say hello; instead opting for looking back and forth between the two new arrivals instead. Yup, she was a wiz at the whole first impressions thing.

"Uh...hey." Max acknowledge, managing to jump in right on time as her mother finished the introductions. "Nice to meet ya, I guess." The last part she muttered. Her mother still managed to hear, and sent a sharp look her way.

"Max, dear. Why don't you take Angel upstairs and show her to her room? I'm sure she's very tired after the long flight." Her mother suggested, and Max shrugged her over to the little girl, she kindly relieved the kid of her suitcase, and Max was startled by its weight. Sure, it was no problem for her, but how had a six year old been able to manage this on her own?

"Seven."

"Huh?" Max turned to the blonde headed child, taken by surprise. Had she just–

"I, I'm seven," Angel quickly supplied, her manner growing nervous, "how old are you, Max, right?"

"Yeah," She blinked, before mentally shaking her head at her stupidity. For a moment there it had almost seemed as if Angel had been responding to her thoughts, but that was ludicrous. "Yeah, I'm seventeen." Together they walked the rest of the way, up the stairs, into the hall, and to the first door on the right.

"Your stuff had already been moved into this room, and I unpacked most of it for you." Max too a moment to explain, hoping she might at least set a friendly relation between herself and her new little sister. It would be awful if it turned into the sort of situation where her little sister started ratting her out on everything she did. Max shivered at the prospect. "Everything look alright to you?"

"Yes, thank you." Angel had replied, after giving the smallest of glances. Max couldn't believe the little girl's behavior. At her age, both she and Ella had been major pains in their mom's _neck_.. Yet this girl seemed so calm and reserved, as though only trying to please those around her.

"Uh, well, if you're sure then. I'll be down the hall." Max gestured down the hall, to her room in the far corner. "Let me know if you need help with anything, kay?" Angel stared at her for a few moments, attempting to discern whether the older girl were being sincere, or merely being polite. After a few seconds, a small smile crept onto the little girl's face.

"Kay."


	9. Don't Be Late

**Max**

Two weeks passed with only minor discrepancies. It had quickly become evident her stepfather – whom she referred to simply as David, despite his obvious displeasure – expected them to follow a similar pattern to the one he had lived by before joining households. Ella and their mother had not complained, attempting to adapt for a man clearly accustomed to having things a particular way. Max, however, was not so sympathetic. She had her own habits, and he had his; she respected that, but not a thing in this world would convince her to accept such outrageous changes. She was not self centered; Max spent several afternoons doing dishes, she could relinquish a television for a couple more hours every day. Max was open to a few, minute changes.

She would not, however, get up at ungodly hours on the weekend, just so they could eat breakfast, then spend several hours, which could be put to much better usesleeping, _awake_. God forbid she ever actually cook, as he had insisted one afternoon when her mother and Ella had been out picking up a few things the house required. She had learned the hard way cooking was not her thing, not unless they wanted some serious remodeling done to the kitchen. That was not an experience she wished to revisit. Her mother and Ella had quickly supported her in the belief that cooking should remain a Max-free aspect, but for the simplest of tasks.

Max had just begun to roll out of bed when the door was forced open, slamming into the wall. It was one of her sisters she deduced, considering she hadn't heard anyone coming up the stairs. She was too tired to figure out who. What was the reasoning behind that infernal beeping that had woken her up?

"Max!" Said girl winced at the shrieking voice. Ella, definitely Ella. "Get up and get ready _right now_, you're going to be late!" No sooner had her brown haired sister stated her demands did the door slam shut, and the rush of footsteps sound on the stairs.

_ Late?_ Max thought to herself, sitting on the side of her bed, trying to pull an answer from her sleep-deprived mind. _Oh, right. School._ Even in her mind the words were sour. Summer had ended much too quickly. A few moments passed, as she mused how nice it would be to return to the luscious, feathery pillow a mere couple inches away, and put off this whole horrid experience at least one more day. Her door creaked open, and she glanced toward the noise to see Angel peeking in.

"Come on, Max, it won't be that bad." The young girl gave a tiny smile which, despite her tired state, Max returned. It had shocked her, immeasurably, to learn she and Angel got along better than Ella or their mother. Max wasn't the sort who got along with children – quite often she simply didn't have the patience. It seemed she'd found a soft spot for the kid. Whether it was the uncharacteristic heart-to-heart they'd had when Angel had first arrived or something completely different, the angelic blonde had taken a liking to Max. Around Ella and her new stepmother Angel was still reserved, a little shy, even. Around Max, she seemed just the barest bit more open and at times Max could see the little girl she seemed almost afraid to be.

"Sure, sure." The brown eyed girl yawned before shooing her away. "Go on and eat, I'll be down in a bit."

"Alright, Max." The little gremlin agreed before prancing down the hall and stairs, considerably quiet compared to Ella. All distractions downstairs, Max prepared herself mentally for the day before standing to quickly rush through the usual morning routine. Hair and teeth brushed, adequately clothed in hoodie and jeans, backpack in hand, Max deemed herself ready and raced down the stairs and into the kitchen. Max smothered another yawn as she walked by the oven, snatching a stray piece of toast as she made for the door.

"We goin'?" She called between bites, glancing back at her two younger siblings.

The trip to school was short and uneventful. Ella and Angel led the way, both excited and eager at the prospect of finally starting back. Max, on the other hand, was not the least bit thrilled, and hung back a few paces behind to observe. The neighborhood and people seemed nice enough and everyone seemed to be happy here, and that was all that was important to Max. Admittedly she was not a very social person, so there were not many friends she had been forced to leave behind. There house was on the outskirts of town, but the walk was still a short one, and before long they were standing outside Riverdell Elementary – Angel's stop. Ella smiled and gave the youngest of the girls an encouraging hug, before urging her toward the school.

Angel returned a weak smile, although Ella did not seem to notice.

"Come on, Max, we need to go or we'll be late!" The brunette called, turning toward her. Max eyed Angel a moment, pausing, before shaking her head. Although she hid it really well, the kid was scared as hell, she realized.

"You go ahead, El." Max decided, waving her sister toward the school they would be attending a few blocks over. "I'll catch up, kay?" Ella was startled and glanced at her oldest and youngest sisters. Then a light seemed to go off in her head, and a thousand watt smile spread across her face as she nodded enthusiastically.

"Okay then, I'll see you during or after school!" Tugging her book bag over her shoulder the onyx haired girl began skipping – quite literally – off to school. No more than a few steps into it Ella turned back with an odd look somewhere between amusement and worry. "Oh, and Max? Try not to be _too_ late for school." With that comment Ella turned and again began making her way to school.

Max took a moment to watch after her younger sister, a faint smile of bemusement sitting on her lips. Quickly she shook it off, and turned to Angel, also her younger sister, she reminded herself. "Ready for your first day of school? I know you're excited, so how about we go meet some people?"


	10. A New Acquaintance

**Max**

Max stood with astounding patience beside Angel at the door to her classroom. Deep blue eyes studied the door with a mix of anxiety and enthusiasm as her small hand gripped the strap to her backpack.

"Ange." Max began with a sigh, crouching down to the younger girl's height. She tucked away a loose strand of blonde hair before placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Everything will be fine, give it a few days and you'll have a ton of friends. You'll love school." Angel gave an unconvinced look that had Ma pausing to consider the crap she was trying to feed to this child. What was wrong with her; that she could even say such things with a straight face? School. Fun? It didn't matter if hell froze over or pigs grew wings and started flying their curly little tails off. School would _never_ be fun.

"What if nobody likes me?"The brunette's mouth nearly fell open at the seven year old's worries. What on earth gave her reason to believe she wouldn't be absolutely adored by her classmates – her teacher for sure. She was angelic personified! "I didn't have any friends at my old school." It was Angel's downcast expression that let Max know the girl wasn't joking. For a moment she was unsure how to respond; sensing her uncertainly Angel explained further. "I wasn't like everybody else." She whispered, eyes trained on her sneakers. "They only wanted friends who were 'normal'."

The little blonde was surprised by the hand that settled on her head and looked up to see Max's solemn expression. "Kid, it's just a fact of life – there's always going to be someone who doesn't like the way you act or the way you look. Age makes no difference, there are shallow people – shallow kids – who care about things that don't matter." The older girl smiled reassuringly. "But they aren't the only kind of people. Don't you think they're just as scared as you are now?" She waited for a nod from the young girl. "Ignore those kids who might try to make fun of you, or think you're too different – they're not worth a second of your time. Ignore them and you'll be able to find the people who do matter. Chances are they're just like you, and don't know what to do, either."

Hopeful eyes looked up at her, thought tinged with doubt. "Do you really think so, Max?"

"I do." She assured, "Trust me on this one. So, do you think you can do it?" There was a moment of hesitation before Angel nodded, smiling brightly and stepping up to the challenge.

"Good, now let's get you in this classroom." Max suggested and the blonde haired, blue eyed girl agreed, her previous anxiety overshadowed by a new found anticipation. The rest was short work and Max stood by as Angel was introduced by the teacher and given a seat before being dismissed with a slight nod in her direction. Max took her leave, although she quickly took note of the fact that despite Ella's earlier warning, she was indeed late for school. As the brunette turned a corner it became apparent school was going to be knocked down another notch on her to do list.

Just down the street a boy, somewhere in the range of her own age, sat dejectedly on the curb. Strawberry blonde hair stuck out in every direction and hung over abnormally pale blue eyes. Assuming the state of his hair was the result of the fingers currently running through it, it took no stretch of the mind to understand he was not having the best of days – a remarkable feat considering it wasn't much past eight in the morning. Max stood for a moment, contemplating her next move. It was no well kept secret that the dirty blonde was not the most proficient of people when it came to patience and compassion. It was within reason, then, to say the majority of it she had spent comforting and encouraging Angel. She wasn't entirely sure she was _capable_ of so much caring in such a short span of time.

Despite her internal reasoning, a moment later she found herself striding toward the boy. She stopped beside him, expecting some sort of acknowledgment before she began her second pep talk of the day. She was surprised – and particularly peeved – however when her intrusion was meet with silence. The bugger was _ignoring_ her. She had half a mind to walk away then and there, and was half a step from doing so when something caught her eyes.

The boy's clothes were unusually worn and dirty, in a way she was quite familiar with.

"I'd love to hear what you've been up to." She hmmed, sitting down lightly as though it weren't the slightest bit strange. "Running away isn't all it's cracked up to be, is it?" It was her comment rather than her intrusion of his personal space that cause his head to jerk up and his form to tense. A startled noise escaped him before he fought to conceal his unease. He then glared, alerting Max to yet another startling revelation. "You're blind."

"Oh, really? I hadn't noticed," was his immediate retort and one he used often, she mused. Max could imagine the irritation it would cause, hearing the obvious stated time and time again especially of a debilitation. Which was why Max allowed the comment slide, although for his own good she hoped he would not keep it up.

"Alright, smart guy. What exactly do you plan on doing?" She jabbed, raising an eyebrow that was entirely lost on him. She gave him a quick once over. "By the look of you I'd say you've got no cash, no place to crash, and no plan." With a sneer he stood, distancing them a step or two before sizing her up as well.

"Mind your own business, how about?" With his last comment the lanky male whirled around and began to storm away. And inadvertently stormed right into a wall. Again Max stepped lightly toward him, casting a shadow over his prone form and resting her hand on her hips, feeling just the slightest bit smug.

"Tell me when you're ready to suck it up and accept my help. I'll wait." A few moments passed in silence be for he released a sigh of resignation.

"How'd you know I left home?"

"Two years ago, did the same thing." She explained. "Hold your arm out, unless you plan to lay there all day." With no complaint he did as she suggested and she gripped his hand, hauling him up with little trouble. "See, not so hard, is it?" Max pulled her phone from her pocket to check the time and winced slightly.

"Any chance you were heading toward school?" He snorted.

"I ran away, why on earth would I be going to school?"

"Point taken." She grimaced, it looked like school was out for today. "Where were you heading then?" There was an awkward silence as it became clear she had been correct in her earlier assumption that he had nowhere specific in mind. She sighed. "Alright, you're coming with me." Idly the young woman began to consider their options. They would fine for the immediate future – both her mother and step father were at work, and would be unavailable for any questions that would certainly arise. In her contemplations she unconsciously reached her hand out with the intent of guiding the male, only to freeze as her hand brushed his back.


	11. The Chase

**Max**

The seconds drew out as Max and the male stood unmoving. She couldn't remember the last time she had been caught so off guard. Despite her best attempt to compose herself Max suspected she looked half a shock away from a very serious mental short circuit.

"Oh my – shit..." Words finally came to her, although perhaps not the most eloquent. Not that she was well versed in the art of eloquence. Her mind was dangerously close to a melt down, so any words would suffice. "Dude, you have-!" She was interrupted by perhaps the most awe-inspiring thing she had ever seen. A stunning realization that smacked her right in the face. Literally.

A set of dappled gray wings snapped out, clipping her cheek in the process. The force knocked her onto her backside and she simply sat for several seconds, only able to watch as the boy launched himself down the street and into the air. _He's flying, oh my God, he's flying. _The same words circled through her addled mind repetitively as she watched him began to fade into the distance.

"Wait!" The brunette shouted, scrambling onto her feet as it dawned on her that _he was getting away._ "Hey, wait a sec!" She sparred her surroundings but a brief glance before yanking off her jacket and racing down the street, wings reaching for the morning air. A second later Max was in the sky, hot on the heels of the boy.

Whether the result of experience or perhaps the ability of sight he so grievously lacked, Max was faster and quickly able to close the gap between them. "Hey! Stop for a second, will ya?" Her voice was smothered by the wind and she growled. Weren't blind people supposed to have unnaturally good hearing? Paired with his bird hearing – assuming it was anything like hers – he shouldn't have _any_ trouble hearing. No, this bugger was ignoring her! She fumed. Whatever, Max told herself, she would stop him. One way, or another.

Angling herself over the fleeing bird kid she considered the distance between the two as well as from them to the ground. Max took a deep breath, hoping for the best before tucking in her wings. She was suspended for a moment, before she began falling. The strawberry blonde yelped as she crashed into him, and they were successfully plummeting toward the earth.

"What the hell are you doi– how are you even– get off of me! Are you _crazy_?" He shouted, panic seeping into his tone. Well, at least she had gotten his attention.

"A lot of people seem to think so, but hey! It's not my fault you wouldn't stop."

"So you decide totackle me out of the _sky_?" He asked angrily, "You are aware we're about to pancake against the ground? Shatter into itty bitty pieces? Hit the ground at 150 miles an hour? _Are you trying to kill us?_"

"Hey, now. I never claimed to be the most brilliant flyin' kid in the world. How about you stop whining before we _do_ turn into bird paste." At her suggestion she received another wayward glare – it was almost funny, she thought.

"Of _course_," He bit out, "it's not like this isn't your fault anyway!"

"What, you want to go pointing fingers? Tell me who exactly decided to–"

"You know what?" He interrupted, face twisted into an irritated sneer, "You're right. Less arguing, more not dying. We can finish this once we're on the ground. Sound good?"

"Of course it does, it was my idea."

"Great, then how about getting off me. If it's not too much trouble, that is."

"Rolling my eyes at you, dude." Max informed, rolling her eyes as she kicked off the boy – a bit harder than necessary for his sarcasm. Only she was aloud to be sarcastic. "Now fly!" He followed her instruction, although not without a great deal of indignant mumbling. Neither found it difficult to correct their flight, it was so second nature.

Their chase had left them outside of town, above a forest of evergreen trees. As they flew Max made a point to keep an eye on the blonde to ensure he didn't attempt a second escape. They landed on a large oak without mishap and she allowed herself to relax slightly. Turning she couldn't help but marvel at his ability to land with such ease despite being unable to see where exactly he was landing.

"How do you do it?" Max asked before coughing in embarrassment at the touch of awe that had crept its way into her voice. She then cleared her throat before continuing. "Landing so easily, I mean, even though you can't see." He shrugged at her inquiry.

"Good hearing. It's kind of like echolocation, in a way."

There was an awkward silence as neither knew what to say to further their conversation. This was a once in a lifetime chance, meeting someone else who had been born with wings. Someone who had gone through the same tribulation and dealt with the same isolation that resulted from the weight of such a secret.

"So, your name. I didn't catch it earlier." Max stumbled to begin the conversation again, desperate for whatever answers he might have, but unsure where to start.

"Iggy." He answered after a moment's pause. "You?"

"Max.." He gave an awkward nod, seeming to ponder her answer. Did he think it was strange, maybe? It wouldn't be the first time someone had raised an eyebrow to a name so unusual for a female. It had never gotten to her before, she liked her name, and she wasn't about to be persuaded otherwise.

"So, you... you actually have wings?" He looked at her – quite accurate in his estimation this time – almost as though if he stared hard enough he might actually be able to see her. He ruffled his wings nervously. "Just like mine?" Max began to nod, but quickly caught herself.

"I do." She stated, ruffling her own feathers in a similar manner. "I really do."


	12. Family Matters

**Max**

There were so many questions. In all her seventeen years Max had never met another person like her. Now, crouched before her with wings stretched out awkwardly for balance, Iggy had made what had seemed impossible a reality. Questions cluttered her mind, but where to begin? It was Iggy who began the conversation.

"Have you ever met another person with wings?" There was a wistfulness in his tone that made it clear he never had. Max shook her head mutely, before catching herself. Right; blind. _Now isn't the time for being stupid, Maximum, _she chided. _Focus._

"No." A question stuck in her mind, one she didn't particularly want to ask. She probably _shouldn't_ ask; people tended to get angriy when you crossed into those 'personal boundaries'. Disregarding the little voice in her head – the one that told her she should learn to mind her own business – Max asked anyway. "Did running away have anything to do with your wings?" He grimaced. Yup, this was probably a sour subject.

Max new she was lucky. Having a mother and sister like hers was a gigantic stroke of luck. She might not have gotten a father thrown into the mix, but she had two people that cared deeply for her. That was enough for her. But what did he have? What was his family like?

"Yeah," He answered slowly, warily, "They used me to make money. Y'know 'come one, come all; see the astonishing bird kid!'" He quoted with mock enthusiasm; eyes downcast he seemed to be half lost in thought. She frowned.

"How long did it go on?" The brunette inquired, thinking she had no hope if she'd missed a bird kid being aired on national television, or something. How on earth had she never heard about that?

"Pretty much since I was born." He admitted, running a hand through his strawberry blonde hair. "I grew up in England, and up until this past year it had stayed fairly small. Primarily scientists trying to figure out how I ticked." Max winced, thinking about what all that might entail. She had a nasty feeling it involved a lot of needles. The thought was enough to make her shudder – yes, the great Maximum Ride was, in fact, terrified of needles.

"About three months ago we moved to New York. My parents were raving on about all the opportunities I'd have in the 'Big Apple'." Disgust crawled onto his features, followed by a disbelieving scoff. "Of course, it wasn't for _me._ All they cared about by then was who would offer the most to meet the freak with wings. I tried telling them I wanted nothing to do with it, but they flipped. Said I was being selfish. Said I was _squandering_ my _talents_. I got sick of it, so I left."

Max didn't really know what to say. When she was young, her mother had always reminded her that while she could play with other kids, be friends, and have fun; she shouldn't tell any of them about her wings. At first Max hadn't understood, she hadn't yet realized not everyone _had_ wings. Hadn't realized she was the _only_ one. What if her mother hadn't been so caring, so thoughtful? Max's eyes widened at a sudden revelation, before a grin split across her face.

"I have an idea," She announced, grabbing him by the arm and tugging him over the edge of the thick tree branch; resulting in only a minor mishap and a _few_ snarky remarks. Iggy seemed at a loss, wondering if she hadn't totally zoned out during their little 'heart-to-heart' chitchat. _Way to spill your guts_, he thought morbidly. _She didn't even hear a bloody word of it. _

Meanwhile Max thought hard, thinking over the foggy plan slowly taking form in her head. _Yeah, this will totally work._ Besides, Max was determined – and when that happened, there wasn't a thing in the world that would stop her. But first things first. Pulling out her phone she absentmindedly dialed a number she knew by heart, hardly sparing her phone a second glance as she did so.

"What on earth are you doing?" Iggy asked once he had distinguished the unmistakeable sound of a cell phone ringing. "Who are you calling, and where exactly are we going?" Max shushed him impatiently as the person finally answered.

"Hello, Max?"

"Hey, Mom. I need you home, now. Like, right now. There's someone you need to meet."

**Finally posted! After like three months, I'm terrible, I know. It's a little short, but I decided I'd held off long enough, and this seemed like a nice little cliffy for you guys.**

**Pst: little tip: reviews are awe-inspiring motivation. ie: with them I'd be about 100x more likely to not disappear for three months, no joke. (Seriously, eleven chapters and no reviews? I know I reposted the story, but that seems a bit...low. Please, hate it, love it – tell me!)**


	13. Like Two Birds in a Tree

**Max**

The young brunette stared in exasperation at her guest, who was slouched rather grouchily against the countertop. The strawberry blonde had one hand fisted against his cheek as the other beat out an aggravated rhythm against the counter.

_Why am I doing this again?_ Huffed the older of the two, doing her best to refrain from smacking the feathers out of his head. Honestly, she was going out of her way, missing her first day of school to offer her assistance to someone so clearly in need of help. Then again, she'd be willing to help a rabid dog if it meant getting out of school, be it the first day or the last. Still, wasn't in necessary to look _this_ miserable?

"Will you stop acting like you're–"

"Being kidnapped? Held against my will?"

"–I did not _kidnap_ you!"

"Oh yeah? You sure about that?"

"I didn't see you kicking and screaming."

"And I thought _I _was the blind one."

"You little! – I outta throw you back into the ditch where I found you!"

"You found me on a sidewalk. Seriously, you should think about getting your eyes checked."

"Come here you little–!"

"Maximum Susan Ride! _What_ do you think you're doing?" The girl in question froze, fingers curled into a ball as she gripped the insufferable male's shirt. A noticeable smirk slinked its way onto his face as he straightened, crossing his arms arrogantly. Drat.

"Yeah, _Maximum_," Iggy adopted an innocent – as well as _fake_ – tone, "What are you doing?" The young woman backed off reluctantly, chocolate eyes glaring so heatedly even _he_ should have been able to sense it.

"Mom…you're back." She glanced toward her mother who stood in front of the front door, looking none the too pleased. Crap. She was in for it.

"Would you care to tell me why, after I made it perfectly clear you were to be at school _on_ time for your first day, that I get a call telling me not only had you not made it to school on time but _you weren't there at all_?" Max held her hands up in front of her.

"Hey, at least I was the one to call you this time!" By the look she was receiving, this was not an acceptable reply. A light went off above the brunette as she realized she had a legitimate reason for skipping. For once. "But mom, it couldn't wait. You'll never believe it!" Max ignored as Iggy muttered something unintelligible but decisively rude. "He's like me, mom!"

"He's…what?" Her mother's eyes widened as she tried to understand what her daughter was trying to say. Max beamed.

"He's got wings. He's just like me." Max's mother turned to study the boy in question, a mixture of awe and intrigue swimming in her eyes. Sensing the unwanted attention, Iggy shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

"First generation bird kid, that's me." He joked feebly.

"Oh my," Mrs. Martinez breathed. "Oh my." For several moments Max's mother was overwhelmed. She took a minute to gather herself before asking, "May I…may I see your wings?" And quickly rushed to add, "There's no need, of course, if you feel uncomfortable." Scratching the back of his head with embarrassment Iggy tried to brush it off with a shrug.

"Uh, yeah, sure. No biggy." There was a moment of hesitance before he slowly unfurled his wings. Max took the chance to better examine his wings, noting the dapple gray appendages were a good couple feet longer than her own. Feathers ruffled anxiously. Mrs. Martinez, well versed in the language of feathers, noted the young man's unease.

"Thank you very much, they're absolutely magnificent." Much as she hated to, Max couldn't help but agree. Nodding awkwardly Iggy quickly retracted his wings, unsure how to respond to the praise. In the ensuing silence, Max took the lead and began making introductions.

"So, yeah, this is my mom." Her mother smiled, holding out her hand.

"Please, call me Mrs. Martinez." Her smile faltered minutely when Iggy failed to respond to her handshake.

"Uh, mom, this is Iggy… he's blind."

"Oh dear, I'm so sorry." She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, and frowned as he flinched at the touch. "Do you live near here?" She questioned, removing her hand when he failed to relax. At her question Iggy got all the more tense.

"Stop being so paranoid, will you?" Max demanded, bumping her shoulder into his. The motion threw him off balance, and successfully out of his defensive stance. "This is my mom, dude. You can trust her, I wouldn't have brought you otherwise." She tisked. Of course, she didn't blame him. He wouldn't exactly have the easiest time judging a person when all he had to go on was their voice.

"Max, honestly!" Her mother chastised, "I appreciate your sentiments, but is there really any need to be so rough?" In a gentler tone she returned her attention to Iggy. "Please, dear, can you tell me where you're from?" Tensing once again Max could see his fight or flight response kicking in. Placing a hand firmly on his shoulder, the brunette unceremoniously shoved him into a chair, keeping her hand in place.

"Iggy, she can help. If you don't tell her, then I will." At hearing her own words, Max paled noticeably. That simple did _not_ sound right coming out of her mouth. Did she need to lay down? Iggy mulled over her words before giving a relenting sigh. Unseeing eyes trained on the counter before him he explained his running away and the events leading up to it.

When he had finished Max squeezed his shoulder reassuringly – taking note that _that_ was also a rather un-Max-like thing to do – before turning to her mother.

"Can you do anything?" She implored, studying her mother for a reaction. What she saw made her wince. It was the Mom look – the likes of which hadn't graced her mother's face since Max had gotten expelled (an incident she hadn't _fully_ deserved). It was a look that moved mountains.

"Iggy, you have nothing to worry about. You'll be staying right here."

This would be interesting.


End file.
